


Heal

by naasad



Category: Batman - All Media Types, DC (Rebirth)
Genre: Abandonment, Accidents, Adult!Damian, Amputation, Angst, Bruce is not a good dad, Domestic Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Injury, Living Together, M/M, Marriage of Convenience, Muslim!Damian, Pining, Romance, Savior (DC), proposal
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-17
Updated: 2018-05-17
Packaged: 2019-05-08 09:14:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,088
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14691021
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/naasad/pseuds/naasad
Summary: Damian held him close. "It's okay to grieve. Mourning is not just for the dead. You have lost... everything."ORSavior's actions have consequences in this reality. Consequences that come in the form of Batman's many contingency plans.





	Heal

**Author's Note:**

> If you want to see what Tim's apartment looks like, you can find a 3D model [here](https://naasad.tumblr.com/post/173978732044/so-i-was-making-an-apartment-for-tim-for-this).
> 
> Also, a little further in this you'll see Damian talking a little weird, that's because of a headcanon I have that, with him being multilingual, when he's distressed, he'll slip into different word orders and/or tenses.
> 
> There is a brief but graphic description of an infected injury, but I've marked the beginning and end with bold letters, and Damian's dialogue immediately afterward will tell you everything you missed in three words.
> 
> And then, I did skip over some important things like the first several weeks of Tim's recovery, and that's because I have no clue how he would grieve over that at first. I think I'm pretty good at getting inside Tim's head, but when I sat down to think about it, I couldn't find the words, and I didn't want to just write a cliche. So the Tim you see after the amputation is a lot more adjusted than the Tim you would see if I had written him any earlier.

Tim had a thing for tall people. Well, anyone taller than him, which when he was that short was most of the entire planet. The point was he liked feeling protected, safe. He was capable, of course he was, he would never have been allowed out on the streets at night if he wasn't. But there was something to be said for that feeling that someone could - and would, if given the chance - stand between you and the world and say "No. This one's mine."

But, really, it was so not fair Damian grew to be nearly two feet taller than him. Or that the not-so-little demon brat had been so concerned for him after everything that had happened, mother-henning him within an inch of his life.

"As the smallest of us, Timothy, you should take better care of yourself."

"You're fast, Timothy, it's your second largest advantage. It would do you no good to sacrifice that by not getting enough sleep."

"Timothy, please, have some tea with those marshmallows. Something to balance out the affects of so much sugar."

He hit every item on Tim's list - tall, competent, and caring (no, they weren't kinks, thank you very much, Jason) - and with a lethally handsome combination of Bruce and Talia's looks, how could he not fall as hard as he did?

Damian was also far out of his reach.

They weren't brothers. Had never been brothers.

Tim remembered the day he found that out with a familiar twist of rejection.

No, Damian was out of his reach for other reasons.

"What troubles you?" Speak of the devil, he draped his arms over Tim's shoulders, gazing soulfully into his eyes, concerned, determined to wipe away the lines and creases in his face.

Tim blinked and shook his head, finishing refilling his coffee. "Nothing worth talking about. Bruce won't be mad if he finds you in here?" Here, in Tim's tiny San Francisco studio. Here, with Tim, with the anti-Robin.

Damian's arms tightened a fraction. "I don't care. And if it's troubling you, it's worth talking about."

Tim sighed and limped away from his embrace. "Just... still processing everything Clark did."

Clark, he nearly spat the name. Clark from another world, where Savior had succeeded. He'd come back in time, far back in time, warned Bruce about his third son before Dick was even in the uniform.

He'd taken everything away from Tim.

Damian put a hand on the back of Tim's neck. "We'll find a way to fix this. I believed you when you said Father was alive. I believe you now."

Tim laughed weakly, put his forehead on the wall. "How? I'd recruit a speedster to go back in time and intercept him, but all they know is what Bruce told them." He sobbed. "All my friends are back from the dead, but they're not my friends anymore."

Damian took the cup of coffee from his hand and picked him up then set him on the bed. "Sleep," he murmured, passing a hand over Tim's arm.

"All I do is sleep," Tim muttered. "Sleep and cry and - "

"It's okay." Damian settled beside him on the mattresses, half his legs hanging off the end. "Do this, until you no longer need to. Your mind must heal, as must your body." His hand hovered over the wound in Tim's thigh.

Bruce's doing.

Tim wept.

 

* * *

 

 

Tim found himself slammed into the wall by his throat the moment he entered the cave. "Bruce," he gasped.

"I told you to stand down and retreat," the Dark Knight growled. "I told you the bomb was charging and now instead of the three blocks we had cleared, half of Gotham is destroyed and nearly thirty-five thousand people are dead, all for your hubris!"

"Bruce," Tim gasped again, clawing at the fingers around his neck.

Finally, Bruce seemed to realize what he was doing and dropped him. "I want you to leave Gotham."

Tim shared a glance with the others. "Okay. I guess I can head over to the Titans for a few days, just until this all calms down."

"No." Bruce poked him in the chest. "I want you to leave Gotham permanently. And I want you to leave your... costume here."

Tim's jaw dropped.

"That is not fair!" Jason shouted.

Dick inched toward Bruce, refusing to look at Tim.

Damian glanced between them all, looking torn.

"Bruce," Tim begged, "my life is here. My - my family is here."

Bruce stared a long time before turning to his computer and fishing out a USB drive labelled _R3_. He handed it to Tim without a word then stalked up to the manor with a single word. "Leave."

Tim stared at the drive, unmoving.

"I said leave!"

Tim cried out as a batarang sank into his thigh, and the other Robins shrank back until Batman had disappeared entirely.

"Come on," Jason said, hoisting him over his shoulders. "We'll get you fixed up."

"The uniform," Damian said quietly, already helping to remove it. "I see no reason to anger Father any further."

Tim shut his eyes, clutching the drive to his chest.

By the time Tim's leg was stitched and bandaged, Damian had returned with a sweater and sweatpants.

"Come on." Jason wrapped Tim's arm around his shoulders and headed for the Zeta Tube. "Let's get you to the tower. Robins together, right?"

Tim snorted. "You're one to talk."

"Got you to laugh, right? Dick, Demon, let's go."

Dick wrapped his arms around himself. "I think I'm going to stay here for now. Try to change his mind."

Jason rolled his eyes, then turned to look up at Damian. "Well?"

Damian glanced at the stairs, then back to Tim.

Suddenly, there was a door slamming. "Damian, begin coordinating with the hospitals."

"Go," Damian said, pushing the two into the Zeta. "I will join you shortly."

 

* * *

 

 

**< Graphic Description of an Infected Injury Ahead>**

 

Damian woke to the subtle smell of something rotting. He wrinkled his nose in distaste. "Timothy, what on God's Earth have you been eating?"

Tim mumbled in his sleep and rolled over, shaking.

Damian frowned and brushed the back of his hand over his forehead, hissing in concern when he found his skin burning. He flung the blankets off of them and unwrapped the bandages around his leg, the smell become worse by the minute until the discoloration and pus could clearly be seen.

"Timothy," Damian snapped, shaking him awake. "Timothy!"

Tim winced and blinked awake slowly.

"How long has your wound been infected?"

Tim shrugged sleepily, then screamed when Damian prodded at it.

The skin crackled.

 

**< End Graphic Description>**

 

"This is gangrene," Damian snapped, already dialing the emergency number.

"Don't," Tim croaked. "Can't afford an ambulance."

"Then I will pay for it. You're already going to lose your leg, I'd rather you not lose your life as well."

The paramedics took too long to get there, in Damian's opinion. He'd had Timothy's meager clothing and toothbrush packed in under two minutes and then spent at least another eight waiting.

When they did arrive, one of the three spent several long seconds staring at Tim instead of helping.

"Don't you have a job to be doing?" Damian snapped.

"He's Tim Drake, isn't he? Red Robin?"

"What's it to you?"

The EMT looked up, then shook his head, moving quickly to help. "My sister was in Gotham during the bombing."

"I'm sorry," Tim wept, as much from guilt as pain. "I could've stopped it. Two more seconds and I could've stopped it."

Damian hushed him, wiping his bangs back from his forehead as they moved him onto the stretcher. "You did all that you could." Something twisted inside his gut at how vulnerable his - his Timothy was.

"What happened to the leg?" the same EMT from before asked once they were seated in the ambulance. "Shrapnel?"

Damian scowled. "No. Batman."

 

* * *

 

 

Damian arrived at Titan's Tower two days after Red Hood and Red Robin. "Where are they?" he demanded. His eyes found the speedster and the superman clone. "Weren't you dead? Where is Timothy?"

The clone crossed his arms. "We don't know. I, personally, don't care to."

Damian growled and stalked closer.

The speedster got in his way. "We're not from this reality. Our Red Robin went off the deep end pretty fast. And from what we saw on the TV, we're having a hard time believing yours hasn't already."

"He felt guilty," Raven said.

Damian snarled at her. " _Is he where?_ "

She gave him an address and he ran into the city as fast as possible, entering the tiny apartment building with barely any regard for its occupants.

Apartment A04 was on the ground floor, sequestered near the corner by way of three separate hallways.

When Damian knocked, something crashed against the door.

"Go away, Jason!"

Damian smiled. "I was hoping you would find me better company than Todd!"

The door unlocked and Timothy peeked through.

"Hello," Damian said.

Tim gave a half smile. "Hey."

"May I enter?"

Tim nodded and limped aside so he could duck under the door frame.

Damian glanced at the tiny studio, searching his brain for that phrase Todd liked to use. "Bitch, you live like this?"

Timothy raised an eyebrow in shock, then laughed, running a hand through his hair. "Yeah, I do." His smile faded. "Bruce froze all my assets. The apartment's in Alvin Draper's name and Jason paid the landlord for the rest of the year."

"Clearly, Father has been taken over by some sort of telepath or replaced by a shapeshifter or-"

"Taken over by an alien?" Tim sighed. "Close enough. Remember Savior?"

"Six years ago? Yes. We stopped him."

Tim shook his head. "There's a universe where we didn't. That universe's Clark warned our Bruce that I was evil." He looked down at his hands. "He made contingencies. Did you know he never actually adopted me? He just forged paperwork and... did other things to make me think he had."

"That is... not right." Damian hummed. "Where is Todd?"

"You just missed him. I told him to get lost, I'm hoping he took a trip down to L.A. to check in with Arsenal, but that would be getting my hopes up."

"What did he do?"

Tim sighed and collapsed backwards on his bed, hissing as it jostled his wound. "Bruce just outed my identity to the public an hour ago. Jason was hovering."

"You're handling this well."

Tim laughed, running his hands down his face. "That's because I'm stubbornly refusing to process it. Once I do, I'll be a mess."

Damian perched on the edge of the bed and put a hand on Tim's shoulder. "I will be here."

 

* * *

 

 

Damian sat in the hard-backed hospital chair, watching Tim sleep. He wished he had not been right but glancing at the dent beneath the sheets proved that hope false.

"Hey."

Damian looked up to see Jason standing in the doorway. He sighed and leaned back. "They had to amputate."

Jason frowned, but nodded. "I'll sit with him. Daddy-Bats is chomping at the bit, you should probably head back."

Damian sighed and stood. "I will return. I promised him I would be here."

Jason nodded.

Damian sighed once again and leaned over to press a kiss to Tim's hair. "I will return," he repeated before heading out the door.

The nearest Zeta Tube was not far from the hospital, and he shortly found himself in the bowels of the manor once again. He scowled and headed up to his room, grabbing a bag and shoving in clothes, weapons, and other items haphazardly.

He paused when Dick knocked on his door. "What do you want, Richard?"

Dick smiled and sat on the bed. "Bruce is worried about you."

Damian snorted. "I'm not the one he should be worried about. The wound he gave Timothy nearly cost him his life. As it is, a limb is much too high a price." He zipped his bag shut and slung it over his shoulder. "Tell Father I will not be returning."

Dick sighed sadly. "Just give me more time. I've almost got him to a point where he'll listen."

"He's a lost cause!" Damian bellowed, suddenly towering over his brother, using every inch to his advantage.

His pocket chirped and he whipped out his phone to see an update from Jason.

_Hes awake and freaked Theyre trying to sedate him again but its not working_

Damian sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. "Stay here if you wish. I'm going to go take care of the one you have abandoned."

He left the manor unchallenged and made it to the hospital in record time.

"How is he?" he asked as soon as he found Jason.

The Red Hood shook his head. "Not good. He's putting up one hell of a fight, though."

Damian nodded and pushed through the doors, ignoring the nurses' shouts. "Timothy," he called. "You're safe."

Tim's wild blue eyes met his. "Bruce?" he asked, flinching back.

Damian tutted. "Father is much too short to be me. It's Damian." He walked forward and grabbed his hand. "I'm Damian. I'm here."

"Damian," Tim whispered, eyes so full of adoration it knocked the breath out of him.

The nurses moved quickly.

Tim whimpered as the needle pinched his neck, looking betrayed.

"You're safe," Damian reminded him. "Sleep, Timothy. I will watch over you."

Tim squeezed Damian's hand once, then slipped into unconsciousness.

"We need to restrain him," one of the nurses said.

Damian smoothed the hair back from his forehead. "There is no need."

"Hospital policy-"

Damian turned his steely gaze on the unfortunate worker. " _There is no need_ ," he repeated.

Jason cleared his throat from the doorway. "What he means is that the Wayne Foundation's many sizable donations surely trumps normal hospital policy in this case. The patient's no threat as long as Damian and I are around. Like I tried to tell you before you kicked me out."

The nurse frowned, but left, taking the rest with them.

Damian stared at Tim's sleeping face in confusion.

"Babybird finally say something?" Jason asked.

"What?" Damian mumbled, looking up with a scowl.

Jason chuckled and straddled a chair. "I've been listening to him pine after you for months. Figures the day he finally says something is when he's half out of it with pain and drugs."

"He didn't say anything at all," Damian murmured, running his fingers through Tim's hair.

"Oh," Jason said. "Oops."

Damian shook his head. "It was just... this look."

Jason nodded, chewing on his lip. "Just be careful, okay? He's barely holding it together as is."

 

* * *

 

 

Damian sat on the bed, watching the news carefully as speculation about Tim ran wild.

When he heard a key in the lock, he scrambled for the remote to turn it off and picked up his sketchpad once again.

"I got taquitos at the corner store," Tim said as he limped in. "They had a vegetarian one for you." He sat on the bed, wincing in pain, and passed over the box of food.

Damian hummed and passed his pencil over a few lines, darkening them further. "I could have ordered food. Consider it rent."

"Jason already covered the rent," Tim pointed out bitterly.

"Still." Damian flipped his sketchbook closed and tucked it in the bedside drawer. "There's no need for you to tax yourself."

Tim sighed and leaned back, reaching for the remote.

Damian barely got half a protest past his lips before Tim was staring stone-faced at a picture of himself on the screen. He wrapped an arm around his waist and took the remote, flipping to a nature documentary before setting it aside. "Ignore them, they know nothing."

Tim took a deep breath and wiped a hand over the tears that had trickled down his face. "I know. It's stupid."

Damian shook his head. "It's okay to grieve. Mourning is not just for the dead. You have lost... everything."

Tim tipped to the side, pressing into Damian's ribs. "Except you. And Jason."

Damian huffed. "Except me," he agreed, pressing a kiss to Tim's forehead.

Tim shook then, and sobbed. "I don't understand why this is happening to me."

"Nor do I." Damian held him close. "Nor do I."

 

* * *

 

 

Tim woke up, already in pain, before Damian's alarm. He groaned and untangled himself from his unusually cuddly bedfellow, reaching for the pills and glass of water next to him.

They fell to the ground with a crash, the glass shattering on the wood floor.

Damian woke with a start, looking around frantically for an assailant.

"It's fine," Tim snapped, anger directed at himself more than anything.

Damian rolled over and glanced at the time. "I was getting up soon anyway." He stood and stretched, spine popping in what had to be the most uncomfortable way possible, then walked around the bed and knelt to pick up the glass, scooping the pills back into their bottle as he did so.

"We should get a coffee table," Tim said. "Something to add to the end of the bed."

Damian shook his head, handing the bottle back to him and heading for the kitchen to throw away the broken glass and pour a new one. "We don't have the room." He smiled as he returned. "It's fine, Timothy. It's the implant more than the mattress."

Tim opened his mouth to reply, but Damian's alarm chimed.

Damian smiled apologetically as he crossed the room to unfurl his _sajjada_ and face the east.

Tim watched and listened in respectful silence, waiting for his meds to kick in, as was their routine for the past several weeks. By the time he had finished his prayer, the pain was much more manageable.

Damian breathed in and out slowly, simply being as he put things away and tidied the room. "Do you feel like breakfast today?" he asked.

Tim closed his eyes as he thought. "Maybe something light. Could you bring my chair?"

Damian nodded and pushed the wheelchair to the side of the bed so Tim could make his way into it before heading to the kitchen and preparing eggs and toast. "Call if you need me."

Tim scowled. "I think I can take a piss by myself." The handrail Damian had installed in the bathroom did help, though. When he wheeled back to the main room, breakfast was almost ready.

"Butter?" Damian asked.

Tim grunted in assent, wheeling up to the tiny table a little too fast.

Damian stuck out his foot to stop him before he could bang into the hard wood, then dished two plates and sat down.

Tim sighed and nibbled. "I'm sorry."

Damian shrugged. "You've done no harm to me. Though if you ever tried, I would not hesitate to defend myself."

"Good to know you don't think I'm a total invalid," Tim joked.

Damian smiled and leaned over to press a kiss to his hair. "Far from it."

Tim caught his knuckles with his own, intertwining their fingers. "I-" He struggled for words.

"I love you, too," Damian said simply, eating with his free hand.

Tim stared at their hands. "I don't love you like that, though. Not like a brother."

Damian glanced up in shock, but it quickly smoothed over. "I know. I did not think you would admit it, though."

Tim frowned, trying to think. " _Jason_ ," he spat. "That little snitch."

Damian laughed and squeezed his hand. "I somewhat suspected before he told me, but yes."

"When?"

"The first day you were in the hospital, when I returned from Gotham."

"Why didn't you say anything?"

Damian sighed and pressed a kiss to the back of Tim's hand. "I didn't know how I felt. Then with... everything, I wanted it to be on your terms."

"Thank you," Tim said. "But you could've been taking me on lavish dates this entire time."

Damian laughed. "I have an idea for our first. A large step, but one that will offer you financial security and utterly piss off both my father and grandfather."

Tim frowned but leaned forward. "I'm listening."

Damian took the twist-tie from the bread bag and wrapped it around Tim's finger. "Timothy Jackson Drake, will you marry me?"

Tim gasped mockingly. "On our first date? Why, Mister Wayne, so scandalous!"

Damian laughed, then turned solemn. "We already live together. We get along well, for sure better than we did those first years. After what Father did to you, I enlisted Oracle's help discretely moving all my assets far away from Wayne Enterprises and out of my father's reach. Even if we turn out to be romantically incompatible, it's a marriage of convenience in all the best ways."

Tim nodded slowly, mind racing. "And even without WE, you still have enough I won't be left in the dirt at some point unable to get disability?"

Damian nodded. "I've thought everything through. I was going to propose this soon even if you hadn't confessed. Now seemed opportune, though."

"Okay," Tim said. "Then yes. I do have one question, though."

Damian raised an eyebrow.

"Are we going to send Ra's and Bruce invitations after the event or let them find out when the media does one of their routine searches?"

Damian laughed.

 

* * *

 

 

Dick sighed as he handed Bruce the thin envelope.

"What's this?" Bruce demanded.

"It's a save-the-date for an event last week. Jason brought it by."

Bruce frowned and opened it, scanning the card and scowling as he processed what it read. "How do we know Tim didn't coerce Damian into this?"

Dick slammed his palms down on the desk, causing Bruce to uncharacteristically flinch back. "Damn it, B! There is a _reason_ I'm the only one who sticks around anymore. I thought I could get you to see sense. But that's not happening, is it?"

Bruce raised a slow eyebrow.

Dick threw his hands in the air, then fished another letter out of his back pocket, setting it on the edge of the desk.

"What's this?"

"Alfred's resignation. Damian bought a small mansion in San Francisco and offered him a job. He says he hopes you manage without him, but he's getting too old to be chasing after bat-themed vigilantes."

Bruce snarled. "Chasing after terrorists and bird-themed vigilantes is better?"

"Damian hasn't worn the suit since Tim _lost his leg_." Dick ignored the horrified face Bruce made at that piece of information. "It's been good for the both of them - getting out of the life. They're happy. And I realized yesterday that if give up on you, I can be happy, too. So I'm going to go grovel for forgiveness. Good-bye, Bruce."

Dick shut the door behind him, making his way to the Zeta with his luggage.

As soon as he arrived on California soil, he hailed a taxi and headed for the new mansion.

There were several U-Hauls in the driveway, filling the home with furniture under Damian and Alfred's direction.

Damian stiffened when he saw Dick, then noted his bags and strode over. "Did you finally get it?"

Dick nodded. "I wish...."

Damian put a hand on his shoulder. "Us, too."

Dick readjusted one of his bags over his shoulder, gnawing on his lip. "So, you were looking for a butler, any other positions you're hiring for?"

Damian smirked. "We've rather fallen in love with our apartment. It may be cramped, but it's accessible and secluded. Cosy. The mansion is mostly for show. Perhaps you'd like to make it seem lived in? All expenses paid, of course."

Dick smiled. "Of course."

"Excellent. Come meet the other owner." Damian turned around, looking for someone. "Berkely!" he barked.

A wide-eyed teen scurried over, Dick recognized them as one of the newest Titans.

"Take Grayson's bags to the Master Bedroom."

Berkely nodded and took Dick's bags, hurrying off.

Damian led him through the mansion's halls until Tim nearly ran them both over.

"Whoa, Speed Racer!" Dick called.

Tim wheeled back a step, sharing a look with Damian.

"Grayson has seen the error of his ways," Damian explained.

"Ah." Tim looked up hopefully. "Bruce?"

Dick rubbed the back of his neck. "Unrepentant."

Tim sighed but nodded.

"Nice wheels."

Tim smirked and twirled around, showing off. "I could, eventually, use crutches if I wanted to or get a prosthetic, but I think I like my chair."

"There are still hard days," Damian said, reaching for Tim's hand. "But we get through them together. And if I'm being an ass, he lets me know."

"Same." Tim grinned. "Come on, let's give you the tour."

**Author's Note:**

> Because this is the first time I've posted anything with my BatBoys ship, I've enabled comment moderation for my own mental health. Still, please comment and let me know what you think. As long as it's not hate, I'm going to add it, and I really enjoy hearing your thoughts.


End file.
